Sirens
by LeFay
Summary: Of course she would come back, and she would bring all of her problems with her. The real question was whether a certain son would able to resist temptation, or if he would let her pull him down into destruction once again. Post movie. ReidxOC, sort of.
1. Prologue

I've had this idea in my head for a story for several weeks now. Last night I had a long stretch of unoccupied time and I sat down to write some of it. It all came out very easily and I think I'm just going to go with, try it out, and see what it becomes.

I'm going to go about this in a different way than I usually do. One of the reasons I have so much trouble writing stories is because I can never find the time to update and I always want my chapters to be long, though out, and worth reading. This new attempt is going to be shorter chapters, but more of them, hopefully. I have a main idea, moral, and climax, but I haven't worked out a lot of the details yet.

This is just a prologue. You won't understand much of it until later in the story. This story has nothing to do with my other Covenant stories. I'm not sure yet how I'm going to handle POV. Right now, this excert is from Reid's POV, first person.

Please let me know what you think!

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There's a small sliver of time before the crash when I can look at it from an objective perspective. Maybe it was an out-of-body experience, like the ones people talk about on VH1. Maybe I'm just a freak and I'm only imagining the thought process. But in that fraction of clarity I can remember wondering how I had gotten there.

I was alone, except for her, but she so far gone she was dead. No one knew where I was and I couldn't do anything but lay in a reclined position on top of one of the tables, staring blindly across the room.

Vaguely I wonder how I got here. My mind shows pictures of pills, lots of pills, and I can almost remember shoving them into my mouth, passing the bowl around and grabbing the most colorful assortment. I think I swallowed them dry, although the taste of gin in my mouth may suggest otherwise.

I cough up a wad of spit and the drool leaks from my mouth. I can't move my head or my hand to wipe the retarded liquid from my face. I can't move anything. Part of me wants to reach up and wipe the spit off my chin as it slides across skin that hasn't been shaved in too long.

But another part of me doesn't care. Part of me wants to start running jagged fingernails across my face, through my eyes, and follow the gashes with a blunt blade. Part of me wants destruction.

As I'm laying there, reality slipping away, I have brief memories of who I used to be. I remember the swimmer with his gay-ass, regulation Speedo. I remember the security I always had; knowing that no shit I could possibly pull in the classroom was enough to threaten my chances. I remember the girls, so many girls always watching, begging, and hoping for a second of my attention. And I remember them, all three of them, standing before me with looks of disgust on their faces.

I can't remember if I puked or not. I always puke at some point. Puking kept the stuff from getting to far into my system because I'd would just up-chuck it before it was too late.

A series of diluted colors swam across my eyes. Purple spots and green stripes seemed to blend into circles of orange and angular shapes of gray. I could see disparities among the colors. Some were fainter than the others while a few shades, mostly the yellows, were extraordinarily bright. Those shades hurt my eyes.

Some time must have passed as I kept staring at the colors changing before me. I vaguely became aware of the fact that I felt cold. There was a draft coming from somewhere. It wasn't cold enough to be painful, like the icy, frigid cold that happens sometimes in the dead of winter. Like when it's so cold you can barely breathe. This cold was just an unpleasant feeling, like a reminder that normally I should feel warmer than this.

A purple light came into my vision. It was large and long, kind of like a bird in the way it floated up and away from my sight. I like birds, especially the killer ones like eagles. I do not like the color purple. Purple is dumb.

My skin is starting to itch. I'm freezing. Goosebumps have risen on my arms and my toes, for some reason unclothed, are tingling. I'm not aware of what is making me feel cold, I just know that I am.

But for some reason I'm sweating. I'm so hot right now I want to jump in a pool of ice. The heat is stifling. I can feel the clamminess all across my skin. The cold air making contact with the sweat turns it to icy water and I shiver even through the fire I feel creeping through my body.

Time is passing, slowly. I know it's been a few hours since the colors appeared. I'm shaking. My body is literally seizing, my arms are pressed against my chest in odd angles and I can feel my legs, beneath me, jutting out at irregular rhythms. My chest feels…hard. It's heaving.

I realize with a shock that I cannot breathe. I cannot bring air into my lungs. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts, hoping to find a reason for the constriction of my throat. Something is wrong. I can't feel my body. I can't feel anything. I am completely numb.

I dry wretch into the space below me, not knowing if there is anything underneath to catch any substance that may rise in my throat. But nothing comes. I haven't eaten anything in days.

I'm choking on nothing, struggling to retain any small amount of oxygen inside my lungs. The taste of bile is in my throat but nothing pours from my mouth. My body stops convulsing, stops moving, and I role onto my back, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

The colors are gone.

Everything is black.

Someone is touching me. There's a voice, but it's coming from underwater. I can only distinguish the differences in pitch as mumbling begins far too close to my ear. It sounds like the same word being repeated over and over. My head feels like lead. I can't even describe the feeling as 'pounding' because that would imply movement of the bloodstream.

A bright, piercing light is shined directly into my eye, causing a stinging sensation. I do nothing to stop the discomfort. The light is, mercifully, gone. But instantly I feel the burn of it in my other eye. The colors have returned, but they are blocked by the huge spots created by the light.

Hands are on my chest, heavy hands. They are pushing against my chest as a tube is placed in my mouth. The plastic tastes horrible, slimy. Something is rubbed against my arm, something that burns. I feel a sharp pinch in the valley of my forearm as a foreign object punctures my fragile skin.

I do not know what is happening as the colors begin to form into shapes. Shapes that remain stationary and vaguely resemble things I have seen before.

I do not understand why my head is hurting, or my chest is burning, or why some form of harsh, sour, powder-like substance is being forced down my throat.

I don't know the person who is arranging my arms so that they lie flat against my sides and my legs so that they are straight and parallel.

I do not know where I am or why I am there. But slowly my senses are responding to stimuli as though a heavy blanket is being lifted from my face.

I can hear now.

I can't hear the crinkle of plastic as bags are opened. I can't hear the click of the straps that tighten around my limbs. I can't hear the questions from the people around me, and I cannot hear the motor of the vehicle running outside.

But I can hear the sirens.

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Just a little review would be nice...even it's just, "Yea, I read it", I'd appreciate some response.

-LeFay


	2. Ocean View

Woo woo! I updated in one week. That's amazing, for me anyway. I'm feeling really good about this story. This chapter wrote itself, everything came out perfectly and I'm confident about where this story is going. Just some background info for y'all: I know very little about drugs and their effects. Anything I mention in this story is probably something I got from the internet. The last chapter, the prologue, was from Reid's point of view, as stated in my opening note.

I only got one review for the last chapter and I feel like a retard. I'd like to thank slytherinsecret418 for reviewing. I think part of the problem was the summary. It was a quote from Nathaniel Hawthorne's _Young Goodman Brown_. Obviously I was wrong in thinking that Convenant fanficters would be inticed by great works of literature. Clearly everyone just wants smut. :p

So, without further ado, here is the second chapter of Sirens...and I promise it will get better.

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_In Greek mythology, a Siren had a maiden's features, but from the thighs down she had the forms of birds. A Siren's song was said to be the most beautiful and wickedly enchanting voice of the sea. By these means, and by clever, knavish, and deceitful words, she persuaded passing mariners to linger and follow her into turbulent waters and rocky cliff edges, thus causing their destruction._

* * *

In the backseat of his monstrous Hummer, Tyler Simms contemplated all the possible phrasings used to describe what was about to happen to him. Tonight he was going to get lucky. Tonight he was going to tap that ass.

Tonight he was going to get laid.

Soft hands splayed their fingers out across his chest and Tyler allowed his own hands to creep upward, testing her resistance as he lifted the edge of her flowered silk camisole. There was no complaint as his hands inched further upwards beneath her shirt. After a few long seconds he was finally cupping each of the girl's C-cup breasts with both hands.

She sighed into his mouth as their tongues accosted each other. Her own hands were still roaming, tracing the individual lines in his abdomen and lightly scratching the smooth skin about the waistband of his jeans.

Scratching, that was a new one. Kitty had claws. Tyler chuckled at the corny line and began to move so the girl was reclined onto the floor of his car's trunk. The Hummer's trunk was more like the back of a cargo van, lined in leather. He had to kick a few fast-food cartons and old soft drink cups out of the way, but it was still the most luxurious trunk he could ever make out in.

She did not protest the new angle of their engagement. His fingers twitched as they ran across the milky skin of her breasts. This was not the first time they had made it to second base, and Tyler was determined to make it all the way around the field before the night was over.

Her hands retreated from beneath his shirt and she brought them up to drag through his hair. He felt the sharpness of her acrylic nails against his scalp when they tangled in the damp locks at the base of his neck. Swim practice had gotten out an hour ago and his hair hadn't completely dried yet. He liked feeling her hands in his hair; he liked girls touching his hair in general.

She used her hands to guide his head lower, beneath her lips and down to her collarbone. Tyler graciously did as asked and began to attack the side of her neck, determined to leave a hickey. Meanwhile, she was moving her left leg slowly beneath him so that her knee rested just inches from pressing against a piece of his anatomy that was starting to throb for attention.

She giggled, the sound made him cringe, "Tyler," she said in raspy voice. That wasn't the hormones talking; her voice was just raspy all the time. "What are you doing tonight?" She took one hand from his hair and traced it lazily down his chest until it rested, again, just above his belt buckle.

"I'm completely free," he assured her, still sucking on her neck, "How 'bout you?"

"Well," she giggled again and Tyler had to rip his mouth from her skin. Giggles pissed him off to no return. Sarah and Kate did it all the time and Tyler couldn't understand how Caleb and Pogue put up with the noise. It was so obviously fake and so…girly. "Maybe you and I can have plans…if you can promise me your dorm will be empty."

Tyler mulled over the conditions. She was basically guaranteeing that she would put out and only asked not have his roommate present for the show. Tyler also preferred private engagements of that type. He had no idea where Reid, his roommate, was planning on spending the evening but it wasn't going to be in their room.

"No problem," Tyler told the girl, nodding his head as he looked down on her from his spot above. The roof of the Hummer would not allow him to sit up completely so he was kind of hunched over her. His back was starting to hurt.

"Great!" she exclaimed, again, a little too girly. "Let's get dinner then we can go back to your place and…continue." She gestured downward where Tyler was pretty sure the beginnings of a hard-on were more than obvious.

"Dinner sounds good," he grunted. No doubt she would expect him to pay. Girls like her, they were willing to do pretty much whatever was asked of them, in the bedroom, as long as they received just compensation. That compensation usually came in the form of money. He had been playing around with her for about two weeks now and he'd already paid for two movie nights, a new dress, and shoes.

Tonight's dinner wasn't going to be cheap either.

"So let me just run into the store and grab a few things," she smiled coyly, "And then we can be on our way back to school."

"Back to school?" he asked. It was already six thirty, which was the average dinner time for most Americans. How late did she think they were going to be out?

"Yea, I have to get ready for dinner," her face showed that, in her opinion, Tyler had just asked a very stupid question.

"Right," he groaned and began to climb towards the back door of the Hummer. Once they were both outside, standing in the brilliant sunshine in a parking lot behind a strip mall she smiled up at him and kissed his cheek lightly. The gesture was surprising, but affectionate.

Tyler smiled down at her, she really was pretty. Her wavy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and size-four frame may be the typical description of nearly every girl at school, but that did not eliminate her youthful beauty, or the bright smile she was always wearing. Maybe something good, something long-term would come from this one…

"Do you have a fifty?" she asked, holding out her hand, "I don't want to use my debit card."

…Or maybe not.

Nope, Tyler told himself as he opened his wallet and handed her the bill, this girl was just a good time, a great night, and a pretty picture. Just like every other girl.

While she went strutting down the sidewalk towards the nearest boutique, a lingerie shop, Tyler climbed into the driver's seat of his Hummer and waited. He turned the stereo on, some kind of hip-hop song, and thumped his thumbs on the steering wheel, going along with the beat.

Tempting fate, he had parked the car in the front row, so they could 'look at the water' as she had put it. The only water you could see from here was a puddle in a pothole on the other side of the road. If you kept walking past the pothole, through a fence and across a marsh, you may come to the ocean after about an hour.

But this strip mall, Ocean View, actually attracted customers because of its 'Boardwalk-like Atmosphere'. A decade ago, before Ipswich was built up as a minor shopping town, you may have been able to see the ocean from this very parking lot. But not now, not with all the buildings and erosion and highways.

Anyways, parking the car in the front row of the lot was a risk because any passerby could easily look in and see exactly what had been going on inside the car. On the plus side, it allowed him to watch people as they walked past, giving him something to do while he waited for her. She wasn't a fast shopper.

It was while he was hitting the steering wheel particularly hard, in time to a new song, and glancing idly at the road in front of him that he noticed a pair of legs he never thought he'd see again. Correction: he noticed a pair of legs that he never wanted to see again. He did a double take as the girl continued to walk past him and into the same lingerie shop that his date had walked into moments before.

He knew who she was instantly. It had been three years but the long, lean, tan legs and muscular thighs were poorly concealed in her ultra-low-rise miniskirt. Furthermore, her long, voluminous brown hair was clip back into a perfectly sculpted ponytail that swayed back-and-forth with her hip swinging swagger. Then, of course, her face was the same, although more mature and of fairer complexion.

Tyler was not shocked to see that she was still gorgeous, still by far one of those girls who were more than just pretty. She had genes that could battle the DNA of Brangelina's kids and win. Girls hated her, guys drooled over her, and despite the fact that Tyler hadn't seen her since freshman year, he knew that she could still turn more heads than Kira Snider and her entire clique combined.

Her name was Eve Carigan and she was evil.

Before stepping into the store Eve turned and glanced down the road, taking in the shopping district she was probably about to buy out. Tyler ducked below the dashboard, having no desire to become reacquainted with her anytime soon. But he knew, unfortunately, that if she was back in town she was more than likely going to Spenser, which meant he'd be seeing her soon whether he liked it or not.

When enough time had passed Tyler cautiously rose into an upright position again. Then he dug quickly into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He hit the speed dial for Pogue and waited impatiently as it ringed three times.

"Pogue," Pogue answered. Tyler could easily hear Kate protesting in the background. He tried not to think about what he may have been interrupting.

"Pogue," Tyler began, "You will never guess who I just saw walk down Ocean View Boulevard."

"Do I care?" Pogue asked, annoyance quickly seeping into his tone.

"Oh you care," Tyler assured him, "Because she is the last person you ever wanted to see again. Maybe because she sent your bike over a cliff the last time she was in town. Maybe because she's the reason your mom can't show her face at the PTO meetings ever again. Maybe because she nearly had you permanently grounded for life when your parents found her flat-out stoned in your bedroom after a party. Do you care now?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line and then Pogue swore, "Holy shit, Eve Carigan?"

"The one and only," Tyler said with venom in his voice. Eve had lived next door to Pogue all through elementary school and middle school. This meant that she had been a favorite playmate of Pogue, Tyler, Caleb, and Reid when they were younger, or at least when they had reached the age that they liked girls. Eve was an easy girl to like because she was extremely easy on the eyes. She had also been extremely easy in other areas as well.

"What the hell is she doing back?" Pogue demanded, as if Tyler secretly knew the answer, "Wasn't she expelled from school?"

"Like that means anything with her parents' money," Tyler scoffed. Despite the property damage Eve may have caused to Pogue's possessions and his family's estate, she had caused far more damage, physical and mental, to a certain other member of their clan.

"Does Reid know?" Pogue asked, his voice uncharacteristically at a whisper, as though he feared the answer.

"No," Tyler told him, "I just saw her now and I have no idea where he is today."

"Yea, he left with some girl after practice," Pogue groaned, "He can't know. Seriously, this has to stay a secret for as long as possible."

"I think that would be the best idea," Tyler confirmed. "I'm going to call Caleb now. If you see Reid, try to keep him at the dorms tonight."

"Yea," Pogue said absently. After a brief pause he added, "This could get ugly."

Tyler knew what Pogue was referring to. Eve had not been a good person before she left Ipswich, and Reid had been the most influenced by her behavior. "But that was years ago," Tyler said, trying to reassure himself, "It's senior year. We're over that crap."

"But is he over her?" Pogue asked, "Look, just call Caleb and he can deal with it. I don't see why we should get all screwed up over some crappy chick. She's probably just visiting anways."

"Right," Tyler said, "See you later." He hung up and was about to call Caleb when the passenger door opened and she climbed into the seat.

"I didn't realize how late it was," she told him, "Drive fast so we can back to the dorms and get ready. I don't want to be eating dinner at ten."

Tyler snapped his phone shut and put the car into gear. He didn't mention that it would make the most sense to just bypass 'getting ready' and go out to eat as they were. He could care less what kind of clothes she was wearing as long as he could take them off later.

"Oh my god," she began, and Tyler mentally braced himself for a story about nothing that could possibly interest him. "So there was this girl who walked into the store and just started grabbing bras and thongs right off the rack. She didn't even check the prices or the size or anything. She just dumped them at the register and pulled out a credit card. They were skanky-looking black lace stuff too. She looked like a complete slut. Who needs that many thongs?"

Tyler stiffened as she went on, describing how the girl in the store and thrown a fit when the clerk asked if she wanted to try anything on.

"She said, 'Just sell me the damn stuff and shut the hell up'," she scoffed as if insulted. "What kind of person acts like that in a store?"

Tyler knew she was describing the kind of person who didn't care about anyone else. The kind of person who would start a fire and then watch someone else burn.

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Please review...even if it's just a short note...I'd appreciate it...thank you!

-LeFay


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